Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ALORA
“And through here I was wanting it to feel really luxe,” Mrs. Dupont tells me.
“Yes.” I smile as I continue taking notes. “The color of the drapes, are you keeping that aesthetic?”
“No. We are changing it, but I guess it depends on the pieces you find as to where we go with it.”
“Right.” I continue to scribble in my pad, I walk over to the window of the upstairs bedroom and look down out onto the street, Philippe and the car are gone.
What the actual fuck is going on?
They would never leave me unaccompanied at a random house.
“And this over here,” Mrs. Dupont continues as she walks through to a dressing room.
Ugh…. I just want this over with so I can call Edward for answers. I don’t know much about anything, but I do know that woman was no stranger and the boys didn’t want her talking to me.
But why?
“Thank you, Mrs. Dupont, I shall have some ideas back to you by Thursday at the latest. It was lovely meeting you.”
“You too, dear.” She smiles as she walks me out, I glance up to see the car is back and the two boys are out and leaning up against it.
“Have a good day.” I smile as I walk down the front steps and the door closes behind me.
After the longest hour of my life, I’ve finished the appointment, but I’m not waiting another minute to call him. “I just have to make a call,” I mouth to the boys.
Philippe nods and Stefan says something to him and Philippe smirks.
What the hell are they saying to each other…. Am I the village idiot here?
Anger begins to heat my blood, it’s one thing to have men follow me around but for them to know shit that I don’t is just damn infuriating. I dial Edward’s number.
Ring, ring…. Ring, ring…. Ring, ring…. The answering machine picks up.
You’ve reached Edward Prescott.
Leave a message.
“How convenient,” I mutter, infuriated, as I hang up. I call him again.
Ring, ring…ring, ring…ring, ring.
You’ve reached Edward Prescott.
Leave a message.
I begin to fume. “Call me immediately.” I march to the car.
“You ready to go?” Philippe smiles as he opens the back door for me.
“Yep,” I snap as I climb in.
Don’t talk to me, asshole, I’m annoyed with you too. When I ask you a question, you fucking answer it. My phone beeps with a text, it’s from Edward.
Mr. Doe
Hi babe, Can’t talk, I’m in a meeting, and back-to-back all afternoon.
I’ll pick you up from work x
He doesn’t want to talk to me?
Why?
I stare out the window as Monaco flies by; a million scenarios are running through my mind and none of them good.
This should be interesting.
“So what’s going on?” Jonty asks as he peers out the shop front window to the men standing out on the curb. “Why are there four of them now?”
I try to act casual. “Oh, I don’t know, they must be rotating soon I guess.” I keep dusting. The shop has never looked better, I’ve been rage cleaning all afternoon.
I’m always so much more productive when I’m pissed.
“Oh, fuck.” Jonty runs away from the window and I know that he must have arrived.
There’s only one person who can frighten the living daylights out of everyone just on sight.
I walk out the back and sit down at my computer to pretend to work.
Just stay calm.
I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down, I’ve been imagining the worst scenarios in my head all day and I don’t even know what’s going on.
She’s probably a reporter or something completely innocent.
My gut tells me she isn’t, I know she isn’t.
The bell sounds over the door. “Good afternoon, Jonty.” I hear the deep English accent.
“Ah…. Hello, Mr. Edward,” Jonty replies nervously.
“I trust you are well?”
“I am, and you?”
“I’m great. Where is Miss Sorenson?”
“She’s in her office.”
I puff air into my cheeks as I prepare for battle.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sorenson,” his sexy deep voice purrs.
I look up to see him leaning on the doorjamb with his shoulder, he’s wearing a perfectly fitted navy suit and crisp white shirt. His hair is messed to just-fucked perfection and he looks like a walking orgasm.
Infuriating.
“Hello.” I fake a smile. “I’ll just be a moment.” I go back and open my email to try and look busy and important.
“How was my girl’s day?” he asks as he walks in and closes the door.
“Interesting.” I hit the computer key with force.
He walks around behind me and leans down and kisses my neck, his teeth graze my skin.
Don’t dare try and hypnotize me with your magical dick tonight, Edward, I am not in the mood.
“Let’s go and have some dinner.” He bites me again and goose bumps scatter up my arms.
I wiggle away from him. “We’re at work. Stop it.”
He smiles against my skin. “That just makes me want you more.” He bites me again.
Ughh….
How am I supposed to be angry with him when my traitorous body just wants him all the time?
This attraction is becoming very inconvenient.
I close my computer down. “Let’s go.” I stand.
His hands are in his suit pant pockets and his eyes hold mine. “Where’s my kiss?”
“Later.” I brush past him and collect my things. “Jonty,” I call. “Let’s go, honey.”
“Honey?” He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Yeah.” I widen my eyes. “What about it?” Fight me, asshole, I dare you…. I am in the mood to end you tonight.
Amusement flashes across his face. “You need to eat.”
“I’m not angry because I’m hungry, Edward, not even you could be that stupid.”
“Careful,” he warns.
“Who was she?”
He runs his tongue over his teeth, angered by my tone.
“And before you say anything, I want you to think long and hard about how you answer. Because believe me, Edward, when I say this, I can forgive anything as long as I am told the truth. But if you lie to me there is no coming back from that.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Do not dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” I whisper angrily. “Who was she?”
“We will have this conversation later.”
“When?”
“Alora,” he snaps. “Do not give me your fucking attitude. I said we will talk about it later, and we will.” He turns and walks out of my office and out the front door of the store.
I stare after him as my blood boils.
Of course he’s going to be angry with me, well, if that’s the best defense he’s got then I’ve already won.
I loiter in my office for a while as I try to calm down, that didn’t go to plan.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Edward Prescott, it’s that if I want my way it’s all in the delivery of what I say.
If I demand it, it’s a straight-up hard no.
If I’m sweet and vulnerable, he’ll give me whatever I want.
I swear to god he’s got oppositional defiance…hmm, maybe I should get him tested for that? It would sure make my life easier if this could be fixed with a pill.
I pack up my things and Jonty and I walk out together. “Thanks for today,” I tell him.
“Have a great night,” he says as I lock the door.
“You too.” I force a smile and turn to see Edward talking to the guards by the car, his hands are in his pockets and he’s listening to Stefan as he talks intently, are they filling him in on today’s activities?
Oh, to be a fly on the fucking wall….
He sees me and smiles. “There she is.” He walks over and kisses my cheek. “Let’s go and have some dinner.”
“Okay.” I clench my lips together to stop myself from saying something snarky. He takes my hand in his and we walk down the street toward the restaurant strip. “Italian?” he asks.
“Whatever.”
He raises his eyebrow again, unimpressed with my tone.
“I swear to god. Don’t push your luck tonight, Edward, you are on thin ice.”
He rolls his eyes and drags me into a restaurant. “Bonjour, est-ce que vous auriez une table pour deux ?” he says. (Translation: Hello, do you have a table for two, please?)
“Oui, par ici s’il vous pla?t.” (Translation: Yes, this way please.)
We are seated at a small table toward the back. “Puis-je vous apporter quelque chose à boire ?” she asks. (Translation: Can I get you something to drink?)
“Une bouteille de votre meilleur rouge, s’il vous pla?t.” he replies. (Translation: A bottle of your best red, please.)
She leaves us alone and he takes my hand over the table and lifts it and kisses my fingertips while I stare at him deadpan.
“Explain to me why you’re angry,” he says softly.
“You know damn well why I’m angry.”
“Tell me it from your side. How you see it.”
“Okay, so….” I try to collect my thoughts. “Today we were in Monaco and I was in a café and a beautiful woman tried to talk to me but was intercepted by your men.”
“I see.” His eyes hold mine.
“And they tried to tell me that they stopped her because they thought she was dangerous, which is just a straight-out lie, and I want to know who she is.”
“Okay.” He nods.
The server returns with a bottle of wine and as she goes through the whole opening-the-cork thing, he starts talking to her in French again and whatever the hell they are talking about seems to be taking forever.
I just want to slam my hand on the table and scream not now, fucker.
Eventually she leaves us alone and his eyes come back to me. “Where were we?”
I roll my eyes; I can feel an inferno building and I’m about to blow. “Who. Is. She?”
“So….” He rubs the backs of his fingers through his stubble as if doing an internal risk assessment. “Her name is Isadora.”
“Why did they stop her talking to me?”
“Because she is unhinged.” He sips his wine and sloshes it around his mouth as he waits for my reply. “She obviously saw my men were with you and then put two and two together to work out that you are important to me.”
“How do you know her?”
“She is a woman from my past.”
“A woman you have slept with?”
He takes another big gulp and I do believe this is the first time I have ever seen him this uncomfortable. “Yes.”
I stare at him as I try to think on my feet. “When was the last time you slept with her?”
He swallows and then takes another gulp of wine. “It is in the past, Alora. It is best left there. It doesn’t matter.”